There are people in your life that sometimes just want to make you scream. For those of you fellow baby loss moms, you know exactly what I mean. I also know that you girls are the only ones who know what I mean. It is amazing how insulting people can be of our losses. I don't know if people assume that I shouldn't have that much pain because I never held Keely alive, or what. It seems as though people just do not realize that I held my child. I kissed my child. I told my baby I loved her and how sorry I was. The next day I buried her. So, yes, its VERY insulting for someone to come and belittle your situation and tell you that you are handling it wrong.
For some people, they are under the impression it is best to not even broach the subject. This is wrong. It kills me that you shut down when I mention my child's name. Don't tell me that it was Gods plan and that she is in a better place now. Would you find comfort if your child was taken away from you as long as you knew they were in a 'better' place now? Would that help you to relinquish any of your pain? The answer is no. Do not tell me that Keely was never meant to be, that it was all apart of Gods plan. Why would God choose to let me carry my child for forty weeks just to take her away from me at the very last possible second. I don't believe God picks and chooses which babies should stay on this earth.
Where am I now? I just got my consecutive 12th BFN. 12. A lot of you may think 12 doesn't seem like that many. Well, first off, when you've passed your child's first birthday and still have empty arms and an empty womb it is devastating. I also had over a years worth of BFN's before I got pregnant with Keely as well. So, three years of failure. Three years of my heart breaking. Three years of my body failing to do exactly what it was meant to do. Three years of unstoppable tears. Three years.
Our next step? IUI. Can you imagine how heartbreaking it is to know that you and your husband cannot have children on your own? That you have to have a Doctor intervene? Unless you've been in our shoes, you don't. Even with this, there are still no guarantees. No promises I will get pregnant. No promises that if I do get pregnant the baby will stick. No promises that at the very last moment I won't lose my child again. No assurance that the pieces of my life will not all fall down once more.
In the meantime, I have people in my life comparing their momentary sickness with me losing my child. Telling me to be happy I don't have to deal with screaming children in the grocery store. Telling me well, at least you can drink this month. Telling me to just calm down and it will happen. Telling me to adopt because people who adopt always get pregnant within a year. I have people telling me that I am handling this all wrong. That I am choosing to stay in my dark place. That I am pushing my friends away. That maybe its just not my time to have children.
We have to protect ourselves. Those of us who struggle. Sometimes we need to shield ourselves from other Mom's, from other children. From harsh and insensitive comments. From the people who frequently make these comments. So, if for some reason, you feel as though I have wronged you somehow, or you feel like I am handling my grief incorrectly. Put yourself in my shoes. Instead of getting angry with me because you feel I haven't given you enough of myself try baring with me and give me more of you when I might need it.
Sunday, April 24, 2011
Monday, January 17, 2011
I truly try so hard to not be bitter; for this reason, I have been unable to update my blog in the last seven months. There are so many things I want to say. There are even more things I just want to scream. I feel completely alone in life. The time comes when people stop checking up on you. Your phone is silent. The sign that everyone else has moved on with their lives is flashing brightly in front of your broken face. I try not to draw too much attention to my loss and my sadness, but I have days where I cannot contain it. Days when I simply need to get it off my chest. Today is one of those days. I am at a loss as to why people, friends, family, will not talk to me about Keely. Do they truly feel like they are going to remind me that I lost my child?? Are they under the impression that I might have forgotten for even a second that I don't have my beautiful daughter? Sometimes, probably more than I should, I update my status to give way that I am having a bad day. The only friends to respond are the ladies who have gone through a loss as well. Over Christmas I only had one friend ask me how the day went. One. No one in my family mentioned it either. I am aware that death is such a taboo subject, no one knows exactly how to handle it. I also know that I have been guilty of this myself. I think a lot of people only know the pain of death from that of an extended family member, an Uncle, maybe a grand parent. I think for this reason, people don't realize that my pain has not lessened over time. When an extended family member dies, you do not lose all your hopes and dreams. When I lost Keely, my future vanished in an instant. I carried my daughter for the full 40 weeks. She had a life waiting on her....we planned a life with her, and it was taken away from us. I may never have held her in my arms and watched her breathe. I may never have made eye contact with her, but I did hold her in my arms. I did kiss her cheek. I did look at her face and tell her how much I loved her, and how sorry I was. I also burried my child. And for all of these things, I will forever be bitter. I will forever need someone to give me a hug, I will forever need someone to ask me how I am doing.